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Tuesday, January 21, 2014

"Why do they call you Eight Fingers?"
Walton asked, puffing away on his pipe. His eyes were directed right at the
ratty man sitting on the chair on the opposite side of his desk, although they
didn't seem to be looking at him or anything in particular. Occasionally he
would run a hand through his greasy, graying hair or tap his beard clad chin
with his pipe, as if in thought.

"Is that a joke?" Rat asked. He had both
his hands held nervously in his lap, missing a pinky and a ring finger on his
left hand. That might just explain his nickname, Walton might assume. But he
never assumed. He listened, and then he verified. He couldn't afford
assumptions as a homicide detective in London's police department.

"Aye, almost as funny as having to knock you
down a digit to seven," Walton said rather dangerously, although he
certainly didn't look dangerous. He looked like an old man. A fit old man, to
be sure, with muscles built over decades of hard work and labor, but still an
old man.

"Look! I don't know nothing! And you got no
proof!" Rat yelled, standing up and slamming his hands on the desk. He
winced slightly, although he tried to hide it quickly. Walton picked that up
quickly.

Probably from his right hand. Poor beggar couldn't even afford
prosthetics. He sighed, blowing a puff of smoke at Rat and waving him, and the
smell, away. Rat managed a smug look as he left, slamming the office door open
as he did. He was soon replaced by a much younger, and well dressed, woman.

"I take it he didn't know anything about the
murders?" The young woman asked, raising an eyebrow at Walton. He managed
a shrug, inhaling and exhaling more smoke before he decided to talk.

"If you work in the less savory parts of
London, and dabble in certain shady endeavors, who is most likely to know about
said endeavors?"

"Yourself? The people you work for?"

"The beggars. Nobody pays them any mind,
because to most people they are just a part of the surroundings. Like a spent
fag on the cobblestones, or some trash in the alleyways," Walton said somberly.
He knew his way around the streets, and he had plenty experience with them.
Unlike this new partner of his. She was too young, too optimistic. He held back
a sigh as he stood up and put on the jacket he had hung over the back of his
chair, moving past the young woman.

She followed him out of the office and out of the
police station, keeping quiet. Her name was Alice, which Walton always chuckled
about for some reason, and she had been working with Walton for a month. That
was long enough to know his moods and that he was a crotchety old geezer at the
best of times. It was long enough to also know that if she needed to know
something, that he would tell her. Or at least give her a hint. If he didn't,
then it was best to keep quiet until he talked.

They walked in silence as he navigated through the
streets, seeming to not follow any particular route. She didn't even realize
they had been following that rat-like man, Eight Fingers she believed, until
she heard his scratchy voice.

Walton held out a hand to motion for her to stop. He
signaled for her to look around the corner of the building they had been
walking by, which she did. She could make out Eight Fingers and some other man,
wearing a dark jacket that he had pulled up enough to cover his face. They were
talking in soft murmurs, making it impossible to make out what they were
saying. She wondered if Walton could hear them. Rumor at the station was that
he had some of those fancy automaton parts in him, although she didn't pay much
mind to rumors.

"Well I'll be. I think we have found a
clue," Walton said quietly, barely loud enough to be even a whisper. They
continued to wait there until Alice heard the man leave, and who she assumed to
be Eight Fingers walking back their way. Walton's body tensed, his arm shooting
forward like a gunshot right as Eight Fingers walked by them, slamming into his
throat. He was pushed back by Walton into the wall across from them, gasping
for breath.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Hair - Short, auburn. Kept clean cut, closed to his
head. Only a little longer than being a buzz cut.

Eyes - Ice blue. Slightly angled.

Facular structure - Lean and angular. Any skinnier
and he would appear unhealthy.

Body Structure - Muscular in a skinny way. His
muscle is bound tightly on his from, wrapped like steel wires. Five feet and
eight inches tall. No visible fat.

Current Job - Traveler/Vagrant.

John Deer is volatile. Prone to physical violence and
bouts of mental instability. He believes in termination of hostility, not
self-defense. If something or someone shows a hostile intent towards him he
will ruthlessly beat it down, literally, until the hostility disappears.

However, when dealing with the sort of things John
deals with on a day-to-day basis, this is an attitude formed out of survival.
John is deivorous. A deivore. John eats a substance not tangible to normal
humans. This would be dei, divinity, or god.

This is why John's appearance borders on unhealthy
skinny. Normal food will only allow his body to survive by providing the bare
minimum of nutrition he needs. To grow fat and plump, John would have to devour
a large quantity of divinity, which is already a rare food source. He dislikes
eating normal human food, as he thinks it all tastes bad.

Divine creatures are fairly rare in the world,
hidden from most eyes. The most delectable of them all are 'gods.' These are
beings that are feared and revered. Their sustenance is worship, prayer, and
belief. This gives them power proportional to the amount they receive.
Creatures that are revered and worshipped as well as believed in fall under the
category of 'divinity,' and thus are edible to John.

John himself, due to his food source, is not fully
human. His every cell has been saturated by the power contained within divine
creatures and beings. His strength, his endurance, his speed, and his senses.
All have been increased to inhuman levels. Which still doesn't quite put him on
par with full blown deities, but allows him to fight on an equal level with
divine creatures, such as pegasus, and forgotten deities.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Guy was
a rather odd man. Most would label him as insane, really. He wandered during
the day, and he wandered during the night. Darkness did little to impede his
progress as he continued to walk. The sun didn’t do any better in trying to
blind him from his destination. It couldn’t. The reason why it couldn’t is the
same reason why most people would label him as insane. Guy simply had no
destination in mind as he wandered. He walked without reason or purpose, and in
this sense he was indeed a wanderer. He never settled down, and he never stayed
attached to other people.

This is
not to say he never had companions as he wandered endlessly. He had met a great
many of people, and a few even walked with him. Some stayed longer than others,
as they eventually found their own places to stop and rest, but for Guy there
was no rest and no stopping. There was simple the road in front of him.

Someone
named Ennui traveled with Guy, separating from Guy repeatedly to only join him
once again further on Guy’s journey. Ennui was an odd person as well. Ennui
would oft talk to Guy and ask him why he wandered. Guy would simply look at
Ennui with a blank expression as they walked and remained in silence when Ennui
asked such a thing.

“Surely
you want to stop, Guy. Walking is so repetitive. So boring. Why don’t you do
something else? Why not run? Or dance, or skip? Perhaps at the very least you
could jog?” Ennui asked Guy, pestering him as to why he only walked.

“All roads
eventually lead to the same place, at different paces. Some people run, and
some people dance, and others skip or jog. I walk,” Guy said in answer, his
gaze unwavering as he faced forward. Another person would probably consider
Ennui’s words, and perhaps even change the monotony. Perhaps they would indeed
do something other than walk. Guy wasn’t such a person. He would walk, as he always
had. There was no reason in Guy’s mind to change.

“That’s
not very fun,” Ennui said, pouting a bit. Guy paid no mind to Ennui’s
expression, and not that long after Ennui was gone, and Guy was alone once
more. Guy didn’t know if Ennui would show up once more, as Ennui tended to do
after leaving, and Guy didn’t care.

The next day a woman named Sphinx
appeared by his side as he traveled. She was quite feminine in appearance, but
she seemed to possess the strength of a lion and the grace of a bird.
Occasionally she would ask Guy various questions, or pose to him different
riddles. He would answer as well as he could, and Sphinx would nod and shake
her head according to whether she believed him right or wrong.

“What
is the answer to the mystery of life?” Sphinx asked him, her tone implying that
this would be her final answer. Guy simply continued to walk as he considered the
answer. Sphinx had traveled with him before, as had Ennui, and she would ask
trick questions at times. Guy didn’t care if he answered correctly, but he
would give them thought anyways.

“If
anyone knew it wouldn’t be a mystery,” Guy said, after a long moment of
reflection. Sphinx hid a small smile behind her hand, but she neither shook her
head no nor nodded. Soon after his answer Sphinx left, as Ennui had the day
before. Another day passed for Guy, and another. He noted mentally how many
times he saw the sun, and how many times he saw the moon. He had seen them both
rise and fall so many times that the numbers were currently at least six digits
long. He didn’t know how he remembered these numbers, but he did, and he was
fine with this knowledge.

Four days
after Sphinx’s departure from Guy’s ever-continuing path, Arbiter joined Guy.
Arbiter was large in size, at least nine feet tall. Arbiter loomed over Guy, who
was neither tall nor short. Arbiter didn’t introduce himself to Guy, yet Guy
knew his name in his head regardless. Guy didn’t introduce himself either, yet
Arbiter knew who he was as well. Arbiter was more silent than Sphinx or Ennui,
merely watching Guy most of the time. Arbiter didn’t talk, and neither did Guy,
yet the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. They continued like this for several
days, until one day Arbiter followed the pattern left by the two before, and
asked Guy a question.

“Why do
you not complain, Wanderer Guy? Does not the red weigh heavy upon your hands?
Does not the breath that is life burden your shoulders? Why do you keep your
head held so high, when others have been forced to keep theirs buried in the
dirt under such weight?” Arbiter asked Guy, the words as heavy as lead in the
air. Guy did as he had done before with his previous companions when they asked
questions, and that was continue to walk. A time passed, then another time as
well as a dividing of a time before he finally answered.

“Aye,
the red does weigh heavy upon my hands, and the breath that you call life does
burden my shoulders, but I must keep my head high despite such weight. If I
don’t look up, I will not know where I go, and if these burdens were lifted
from me then I would not know where I had been. One is lost if one does not
know where they are going, or where they have been. I am not lost, the Judge
named Arbiter, nor do I plan to become lost. So I shall continue regardless of
that which hampers my path, and I shall never forget. As long as I can do this,
I am content, and have no reason to complain,” Guy said. Arbiter raised a
giant’s hand and patted Guy on the shoulder as they walked together, and then
left as the others had before.

It had
been some time since Guy had begun walking, but he finally reached the end of
his path. He didn’t know why, but he knew this was the end regardless. Ennui,
Sphinx, and Arbiter were gone, but a person stood in front of him. He felt as
if this person was an old friend, and so he walked his left steps to the person
and held out his hand. The person shook the hand, and smiled.

“It has
been a long time, Guy, but your journey is at an end now. Your traveling
companions shall find another to travel with, and they will continue to do so
for a long time until the time to rest comes for them as it has for you. So
close your eyes, and sleep, Guy, sleep for a time. You will awake again when
the time comes,” the person said. This person moved closer to Guy, enclosing
him in a hug. Guy nodded and closed his eyes, allowing his body to relax. The
person held him up, and slowly lowered him until he was laying upon the ground.

“Can I
lay my burdens down for a time now, Mortifer?” Guy asked the person. The
person, Mortifer, nodded. Guy didn’t open his eyes, but he knew the answer, and
so he did as Mortifer instructed, and he slept for a time.